The Eyes
by Kybo
Summary: Joe must rely on his wit to ecape from an insane murderer and put the man behind bars without ending up dead in the process. Passed the story on to Tanukiimbreed, who's name is now Squishington Baldwin. Complete on that account.
1. Default Chapter

This is my first fan fic so R&R and pleez no flames unless they're constructive.

**Chapter1**

"But Pa, I don't wanna go to school!" Little Joe whined.

Joe's father, Ben Cartwright, rolled his eyes in exasperation and gazed down into his youngest son's determined green eyes.

"For the last time, Joseph. You are going to school. I am not going to argue about this." Joe sighed. "But Pa..."

"Joseph! am not going to argue today! If you don't go to school now, I will have Adam or Hoss take you." This last statement had the desired effect. Ben watched his son's gaze fall to the floor in defeat.

"Oh, all right. I'll see you after school." He picked up his books and trudged out the door towards the barn. Ben waited until he heard Joe's pinto, Cochise, leaving the yard and starting down the path, then sighed. He hated arguing with any of his sons, especially Joseph. 'Oh well,' he thought. 'I'll make it up to him when he gets home from school.'

Joe traveled along the path on Cochise at a slow trot. He was still angry at his father about the argument but more angry at himself for being mad at his father. As Cochise traveled down the trail, Joe gazed into the trees, losing himself in the beauty of the forest. He was brought to reality with a bump at the sound of a gunshot, and an almost instant stinging on his cheek.

He was momentarily stunned at how close he had just come to losing his life, and slowly reached up and touched his cheek where the bullet had grazed his skin. There was another gunshot up ahead, and a thud. Joe slid off Cochise and tread quietly to where the shots had come from.

There was a clearing up ahead, and Joe hid behind some bushes at the very edge and watched the seen before him. There were two men in the middle of the clearing. One of them had obviously been on the receiving end of the last bullet, and was laying face down in the dirt, a pool of blood slowly encircling his body.

" Got you that time, you dumb bastard." The other man was saying. "You aint ever goin' to boss me arou-" he broke off looking into the surrounding trees.

He thought he had just heard a twig snap.

Joe froze, cursing himself for being so careless of where he had stepped.

"Who's there?" The man called, looking around at the surrounding forest.

Joe sat stock-still, praying that the man would pass the noise off as some sort of animal. Joe looked at the man, taking in his appearance so he could tell Sheriff Roy Coffee later of what he had just witnessed.

The man was still looking around the clearing for the source of the noise, but his back was turned to Joe. He was wearing a dark brown worn and muddy duster that went down to his knees, and black muddy jeans and boots. The man turned around and Joe held his breath, praying that he wouldn't be spotted.

Very slowly, every muscle tensed to run if he needed to, Joe started backing away from the clearing, but he had to turn his head to look where he stepped. He had gone about ten feet back when he heard a grating voice that chilled him to the bone.

"Hey, kid. What the hell do you think you're doing?" Joe's head snapped up, and for the first time Joe was staring into the stranger's light ice-blue eyes. They were completely and utterly mad. Joe found himself unable to tear his gaze away from the man's face; he felt hypnotized by the man's steady gaze.

"I asked you a question, kid. What do you think you're doin' spyin' on me ?" He took a step forward, and raised his gun. "Answer me!"

Joe's mind was screaming for him to run, and he ripped his eyes away from the mans face and turned and started to run. He heard a shot ring out behind him and dived behind the nearest tree not a moment too soon.

The side of the tree seemed to blow out in a shower of splinters that scratched Joe's face as he stood up again. He forced himself to run faster than he had ever run in hs life. No sooner had he reached the road than another shot rang out in the early morning air.

Joe gave an agonized yell as the bullet ripped into his shoulder. He stumbled, but forced himself to continue running. The world as swimming around Joe and darkness threatened to envelope him as he stumbled on don the road. Another shot rang out, and the young Cartright fell motionless to the ground.


	2. Chapter 2

I'm sorry about the last chapter everyone, but something happened in the editing or something. Anyway, here's Chapter 2!

Ben Cartwright sat at his desk, sorting through the various papers piled upon it

when his oldest son, Adam walked through the door.

"Hey Pa, do you know where Joe is? I went to the school to pick him up on my way out of town and his teacher said that she hasn't seen him all day.

Ben stared up at his son, concern etching itself over his features.

"I don't know why that would be. I sent him to school this morning just like every other day." he said slowly, trying to think of a reason why his youngest had not turned up to school that day.

"I think we should saddle up and go find him. Adam, could you ride up to where Hoss is repairing up the fences and get him to come, then ride down the road towards Virginia City and try to find any sign of Joe. I think I'll go down the road and start checking now."

Adam nodded, then headed back out the door. Ben rose to his feet, walked to the door , and buckled on his gun belt. Wherever his son was, he was going to find him. Grabbing his hat, he headed out the door.

Joe's head swam in a thick swirling fog, yet all he was aware of was the pain. Though seemingly centered around his shoulder and lower back, the pain lanced throughout his entire body. His was dimly aware of voices penetrating the thick, swirling mists in his brain, but he couldn't make any sense of them.

"...spyin' on me, little whelp...." "...didn't need to..."

Joe tried to focus on the words, trying to make sense of them. The pain seemed to increase as the haziness started leaving his mind. He became aware that he was laying on a cold dirt floor. He tried to move his head a little to clear away the grogginess and immediately groaned aloud at the pain that erupted from the slight movement.

"Hey I think our little spy is wakin' up." said a voice at Joe's side.

He remembered the harsh, cold voice from somewhere but just couldn't place where he'd heard it before.

"Good. Now you can take him back to his family or dump him by their house so he isn't found with us! You're always getting us into trouble. I just got out of jail from your last little plot and I'll be damned if I'm going back again." A second voice hissed on Joe's other side. This voice Joe was sure he had never heard before.

"I can't take him back, he's seen me an' if he lives through this, he's gonna go blabbin to everyone 'bout who shot him an' that ol' miner Kennings."

Like a brick, memories rushed back as though a dam had been torn down in his mind. The shots, a man laying on the ground in a puddle of his own blood, those icy blue eyes.... his thoughts all froze and all he could see were those icy pools that seemed to hold an eternity in an instant, and still so shallow, so mean, so incredibly insane....

"Kid, hey kid! We know you're awake, just open your eyes. I won't let this idiot kill you."

Joe opened his eyes slowly. They watered as the light assaulted them.

"Who...you...?" Joe managed to gasp.

"That aint none of your concern. Don't worry, I don't plan on keeping you here long. But I want you to know that once you're back comfy-cozy with your family, you better not breathe a word of this, boy." He turned to the other man in the room. "I'll be back in a while. I've got to find out some information. Don't kill him or I swear to God Mason that you won't live another day." He slipped out the door.

Joe looked over at Mason. "Why...wh-where are we?" Joe fought back a wave of nausea as pain coursed through his body. Inky blackness threatened to overtake Joe's mind when he heard an ominous cracking noise above his head.

"Well, Clay might've gone all soft on you, but personally, I can't stand spies and sneaks. So looks like your luck is about to run out." He continued to crack his knuckles and, with a demonic grin plastered on his face, he took a step towards Joe.

Ben rode slowly down the trail. He hadn't gotten very far from the ranch house in the past 15 minutes, but he was he was being thorough in his search of the road. He stopped and looked back at the thunder of hooves behind him. He watched as his two oldest sons rounded the corner and came towards him.

"Pa, we thought you'd be farther down the road by now." said Adam, his brows furrowed. "Did you find anything?"

"Not yet, but I- " He cut off at the sound of a familiar whinny down the road.

Hoss, Adam, and Ben wheeled their horses around and hurried down the road. Cochise, Joe's pinto, was standing off the road in a group of trees, her reins wrapped around a tree limb.

"Well, that's strange," muttered Hoss, sliding off his own mount, Chubb, and walking over to the nervous pinto.

"Joe don't usually leave Cochise tied off somewhere for any length of time unless he's near." he patted the horse's neck and rubbed down along her back. "and she's been here awhile."

"JOSEPH" Ben called into the surrounding trees. There was no answer.

"Pa, look." said Hoss, pointing to the ground. "Those are his prints leading into the trees."

"Let's go." said Ben, and without another thought they headed into the trees. There was a clearing up ahead of them and as they walked, they noticed a form laying on the dirt.

"Joe!" cried Adam, as he raced into the clearing. But it wasn't Joe laying in a pool of his own blood. Adam rolled the man gently onto his back. Hoss came and stood behind Adam.

"Isn't he that Kennings fella?" he asked.

"Yes," answered Ben quietly. "But where's Joe? Hoss, you ride into town and get Sheriff Roy Coffee and bring him out here. Adam stay with me and let's find Joe."

Hoss left Adam and Ben to continue their search for any other clues that would lead them to the youngest Cartwright's whereabouts. They backtracked to the spot where Joe's prints ended, and started following them back. They both froze at Hoss' shouts down the road.

"Pa, Adam! Get over here quick!"

They ran over to where Hoss was standing in the road. In front of him in the dirt was a patch of crimson.

"Oh my God," Ben whispered as he ran to the spot. He could see clearly that it was a pool of blood, and the dirt was turned up around the spot as if someone had fallen. Beyond it, they could see the unmistakable smaller bootprints of Little Joe.

"What happened here? Where is he?" exclaimed Ben, trying to see anything that he may have missed. "Hoss! Go get the sheriff!" Hoss remounted Chubb and galloped off down the road.

"Hold on Joseph, hold on." Ben muttered.

Thanx for waiting! I'm going to try and keep the chapters a little bit longer from now on. Thanx to everyone who reviewed my last chapter: chochise, Igbabyblu, Kusiner, Spots on a Pony, and Jas-TheMaddTexan!


	3. Chapter 3

Hey everyone. Sorry about the wait. I'm sure you all hate me now... ya. Anyway, I'm going to write the story just at Joe's end, because I can't think of any thing for everyone else.

Joe gasped as Mason marched over to him. He pushed the pain aside and shouted "Stay away from me!"

Mason chuckled. "Heheh. You keep shoutin' boy, and I'll shut your mouth for good.

Joe propped himself up on his elbows and slid backwards along the floor away from the madman. "You'll p-pay for this," Joe stammered, "My Pa's gonna find you an' you're gonna g-get it. You an' your friend."

"Shut up kid. It'll do you a world of good." He stepped forward and grabbed Joe's collar, hoisting him up off the bed.

Joe gasped in agony, his vision blurring from the pain of the two gunshot wounds.

He looked up weakly through watering eyes. He didn't know where it came from, but he felt a surge of bravery that he didn't even know he possessed.

"Do it." He hissed into Mason's face. "I dare you. Y-your buddy won't be to happy, and neither will my Pa when he finds out wh-what you done. You'll hang for this."

"Brave words, whelp. Let's test them out. Bet you're not so tough, huh?" and with that, he slammed his fist into Joe's stomach.

Joe cried out and clenched his eyes shut. Tears of pain trickled down his cheeks.

"Heheheheheh..." Mason chuckled. He punched Joe twice more in the ribs, then dumped him in a heap on the floor.

The young boy curled up in a ball, squeezing his eyes shut and gritting his teeth.

_I gotta stay awake... I c-can't let him win...I can't_

Thought Joe as he bravely fought off the waves of darkness that threatened to envelope him. He heard footsteps treading heavily to the other side of the room.

"See you later, kid. I got better things to do than babysit little brats like you.

A door slammed, and everything was silent.

Joe stirred. He slowly, slowly uncurled. His eyes opened, and their green depths were filled with cold fury .

He reached out and grabbed the edge of a table that was near him. He dragged himself, bleeding and bruised, a few inches across the floor.

_I have to get out of here... find Pa... Pa..._

Joe's trip across the floor was agonizingly slow. He was terrified that his captors might return. At every sound that reached Joe's ears, he froze. Every inch of his being tensed with nerves and pain.

At long last, he reached the door. He glanced up at the door handle. Slowly, he sat up on his knees. His left arm hung limply on the floor, and his back was hunched.

_1..._

_2..._

_3_

Joe took a deep breath, reached up, and gripped the door handle. He turned it, and nearly fell through it as it opened.

Squinting in the sudden sunlight, he peered out side for the first time in...

_Wow _Joe thought_ How long have I been here?_

He shook his head.

_It doesn't matter. I need to focus on getting out of here._

He crawled out into the yard. The edges of his vision was fuzzy. He was bent on reaching the line of trees that he could hardly see in his fading vision.

_But wait...I'm leaving behind a trail that a blind man can follow..._

Joe glanced back, and, sure enough, there was a trail of blood leading from the door.

He hoisted himself up painstakingly onto his feet and stumbled the rest of the way across the yard. He was controlling himself by puppet strings on the outside, forcing himself to take each step. Through pure determination, he stayed on his feet an at lat, after what seemed like an eternity, he made the trees and stumbled into the woods.

It was then that he heard the horses' hooves entering the yard behind him...


	4. Chapter 4

Joe gasped as he heard the hooves.

_No...NO!_

He pushed himself into a slow jog, tears streaming down his dirty face, but he didn't make a sound.

He heard heavy footsteps strutting across the yard.

He pushed harder. His jog turned into a stumbling run.

The pain was so intense...

_Don't think about it._

He told himself strongly. As he stumbled on, not daring to look back, he heard a door creak open, then slam shut. The noise echoed through the trees like gunfire. Joe clenched his teeth and kept going, waiting for the inevitable...

Sure enough, within a minute of the door slamming, he heard a roar of anger followed by a crash as the figure exited the cabin.

Joe stopped a moment and looked behind him. What he saw made his chest feel tight. As he had run, he hadn't paid any attention to the trail he had been leaving behind. Blood lined the ground, leaving a trail that a child could follow.

He racked his foggy brain for anything that might help him.

He took off the remains of hiis scraggly shirt and tied it as tight as he could stand around his waist so that it would at least slow down the drip of blood to the ground. When that was complete, he looked wildly around, gasping as he became lightheaded from the movement.

There was a bush a few paces back.

He stepped back slowly, making sure he trod on his already existing footprints until he reached the shrubbery, then taking a deep, steady breath, he dove as far as he could behind it. His vision blurred as he hit the ground, and a wave of nausea nearly overwhelmed him.

Meanwhile the footsteps were sounding closer.

and closer.

and closer...

Clay Parker sat on his horse, riding back to the shack that he and Mason Gray had been saying at for the past two weeks.

Cursing softly under his breath at that idiot Mason, he took his hat off and wiped the thin layer of sweat off his face, then put the hat back on his head.

He could see the yard up ahead and sped his steed up a little. He was eager to get out of the hot sun.

At the sight of a familiar dark brown horse tied to the post outside the door, he sighed deeply. He didn't want to confront Mason about the boy, because he knew the big man wouldn't budge, and he would probably end up in a rage which could very possibly end in one or more fatalities.

"Ugh. Damn lunatic..." he muttered, running his hand down his face. But he stopped half-way. There were small footprints leading across the yard, intermittently spattered with drops of blood.

"SHI-" he jumped off his horse and hurried into the trees, following the footprints.

BLAM!

He stumbled as a gunshot was heard in the distance, then sprinted after the noise.

"Shit shit shit shit shit!" and he vanished into the foliage.

Joe flinched as the stranger shot his pistol into the air, trying to scare Joe out into the open. He waited with baited breath as his vision cleared and the nausea passed.

Meanwhile the footsteps were getting closer...

and closer...

By pure luck, there happened to be a hole hidden under the bush he was hiding behind.

He could hear the leaves crunching under the stranger's feet.

He shuffled down the hole as quietly as he could feet first, pulled the branches over the opening so it was practically invisible to anyone just walking by.

He would be safe if he could get farther back.

So, biting his lip to keep it from quivering and to hold back any whimper that might try and escape, he slid backward down the hole.

"Come out kid, I aint gonna hurt you, you heard Mason. He won't let me touch you." Mason Gray stumbled loudly through the brush of the forest.

He chuckled drunkenly and waved his gun out in front of him. "Come out, come out, wherever you are..." He cooed in a sing-song voice.

"Mason! Damn You! What the hell is going on? Get over here! Now!" The voice of Clay drifted through the trees.

"Not now, pal." Mason called back, peering through bushes and around trees.

"Yes, now, you overgrown drunken bastard!"

Joe took advantage of the muffled shouting match and slid backwards down what turned out to be a small tunnel. He was amazed at how far back it went.

Was it getting wider?

It was.

The tunnel was getting wider and wider so soon Joe was able to crawl backwards.

He paused a moment, panting, and listened until he was sure that the shouting match was still going on.

He gave a muffled cry of surprise as the tunnel he was in dropped out and he fell several feet to the ground, where he lay still.

Almost as if he were dead.

Above the ground, the voices raged on.

"You _idiot_!" Clay screamed into Masons face. "What d'you mean _you lost him_!"

Mason was turning redder by the second.

"I told you to _watch_ him! That includes STAYING IN THE CABIN AND _WATCHING _HIM! But nooo! You go and get drunk off your-"

_WHAM_!

Mason punched Clay hard across the face, sending him sprawling.

He lay there a few seconds, flabbergasted, then got to his feet and tackled Mason, and the two men rolled across the ground, punching, kicking, biting, and scratching.

Slowly, achingly, Joe's eyes flickered open.

He sat up, slowly, and leaned tiredly against the wall behind him.

He knew something was wrong when he wasn't as sore as he'd expeced. In act, he had very little trouble sitting up at all...

He shook his head slightly, and the dizziness came.

He waited for it to clear, and when it did, he took a look around the room he was in.

He gasped at what he saw.

A thin beam of sunlight drifted down from the tunnel about seven feet above his head, illuminating a chamber about the size of the dining room at the Ponderosa. There, laying on the ground in front of Joe in several large piles...

Clay lay on the ground, unconscious, blood dripping from a cut above his eye, and several bruises covering his features.

Mason stood nearby, standing tall, though also looking worse for wear. He cracked his bloody knuckles, then walked on, trying to find the boy's footprints again.

He found them after a few minutes, and followed them deeper into the forest.

He stopped abruptly after about a quarter mile, however.

The trail stopped.

"What the hell?" He mumbled, running a sweaty and blood-stained hand down his face.

He looked around and noticed where he was.

"Oh no. Oh no, he better not have-" He stumbled back a few steps and practically ripped a random bush out of the ground, exposing a thin hole in the ground. Small enough for a small boy to fit in. There were several spots of blood dotting the ground, and the dirt was turned up.

"Oh hell no..."

...were hundreds of bars of gold, surrounded by even more dynamite...


	5. Notice

Hey everyone! I know I'm completely evil, but I'm stopping the story. But before you all chase me down with torches and pitchforks, _I'm _not continuing the story, I'm passing it on to Tanukiimbreed. We don't know how to pass the story on to another author, so he/she is going to start a part 2 or something.

Thanks for all your awesome reviews!


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